In the Midst

In the midst of the world wobbling on it’s axis, I had some moments of pure contentment this week–none planned, none big.

Here is an odd one. I woke in the middle of the night and was struck with physical comfort. Here’s the crazy thought that ran through my mind; “Oh, I remember this. This is what it felt like to sleep like when I was a baby. No aches, no pains, perfect temperature, comfy blankets, secure.” Later, I woke-up tangled in sheets and walked stiffly to the bathroom back in my very adult body. I can not tell you (but I am trying anyway) what a profound moment that was. Contentment is profound, not light like happy, nor sparkly like joy, but deep quiet perfection.

Another was a moment was with my husband. We are in transition and forget that we carry that pressure–the pressure of a new stage coming our way called Getting Older For Real.I remember my parents bickering during their adjustment to limitation and the need to shed ‘stuff’. I was about to dive into the latest irritation when my voice shifted. No longer a shrew, I spoke my truth so deeply that I swear my voice changed and the atmosphere shifted. It killed all bicker. We had become addicted to disagreement as our place to live from. Then, because we were in the bedroom I asked/demanded that we lay down together and hold one another and not talk. We stayed for an hour. It shifted the argument from between us to between us and the world. We became partners again. Contentment is simple and needs very few words.

My adult daughter and her boyfriend surprised us Friday night bringing dinner and their combined three kids. I sat at the kitchen table crowded and cozy as my daughter took command of the kitchen. I was content to not be in charge. It was a succession plan in action. I felt in my right place. And later as the living room changed into a daycare floor with felt play food and clanky pots and pans on all surfaces, and permanent Sharpee (how do kids find them when I never can when I want one??) marked my wood floor I had a wave of just rightness. Contentment involves some surrender.

Last night I had gone (under duress) with my husband to buy a new TV. He agreed not to set it up so that I could sit in MY chair (red) and watch me a little Cooking Channel. No news. He read in the dining room in a corner easy chair. (Don’t picture perfect. Picture a table covered with CD’s my husband is sorting through (perennially) and two baskets of kids stuff from the night before and a fireplace mantle with droopy Halloween ghosts and saggy gauze spider webs. David (my husband does have a name) live in continuous music. Mostly I’m fine with it. But he is crazy eclectic. From fusion to oddities like Louis Armstrong singing Hawaiian songs. Last night, In The Midst, he had on Nina Simone singing wonderful righteous and fierce songs of racial injustice. It was strong and not so great musically. Then came I Love You Porgy, sweet and slow and full of love. I left the living room and pulled David to his feet and we slow danced in the midst of it all. Contentment doesn’t need perfection, just a welcome. It comes In the midst.